


Stain Your Colors Across my Skin

by orphan_account



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, NSFW, NSFW Art, Paintbrushes, Pictures, creative uses of paintbrush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3961759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink Meme prompt asking for something creative with paint brushes and Solas/Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stain Your Colors Across my Skin

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: "I saw this gif on tumblr (http://38.media.tumblr.com/f36beaea0d0419034047e8001d2e8337/tumblr_niv4ozMWiH1u0mmtjo1_500.gif) and thought it would make a pretty great Inquisitor/Solas fic"

She can't watch him when he paints anymore without squirming.  
  
He had surprised her when she walked out of a long meeting with her advisers and asked her to speak with him later that evening. When she had arrived the only acknowledgement she had received was a quick glance, a friendly smile, and, 'Inquisitor,' before he returned to his work.  
  
She bit her lip and stood in the middle of the rotunda, dumbfounded and uncertain. Her eyes strayed over his back, which flexed with relaxed movements as he artfully stroked line of color along the wall. Her teeth sunk into the meaty part of her lower lip ever so much more when she glanced at the hand which he worked with. He held the brush ever so delicately, each stroke gentle and patient.  

  
Her mind flashed back and she can practically feel the brush caressing across her skin. Her lips, then her chin, making its slow descent down to her breasts. It teases and tests her soft flesh, making sure to draw her nerves up to the surface until she is beyond sensitive.  
  
Unable to help herself she takes a quick sit on the unoccupied couch. It's hard to keep her hips from wiggling, but she can't stop her thighs from coming together in attempt to relieve the sudden aching pressure between her legs.  
  
"Solas, you wanted to speak with me?" she tries, though she sounds somewhat breathless.

  
His head tilts as he inspects his work thoughtfully, and when he glances her way there is the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. This was going to be a long evening.

 

"A moment please da'len, if you will? You arrived earlier than I anticipated and I am not quite finished."

 

She swallowed hard against a suddenly dry throat as she watched his fingers roll the brush between forefinger and thumb. He caught her look and chuckled softly.

 

"Right, of course. I don't have any where else to be." The words come out thickly as she glances between the brush and his face.

 

He gives her a pleased smile and returns to his work, his brush making long arcs across his mural and her eyes close as she remembers the soft slide of the horse hair brush over her nipples. It had teased them in to hard peaks until her breath came out in hard pants.

 

'Patience, da'len,' he had chided her for squirming when she couldn't stand it anymore. The brush had then made its way down her sternum and tickled a long line down to the cradle of her hips. He painted spiraling patterns and teasing swirls along her hip bones in slow methodical strokes. A soft gasp had escaped her lips as her body arched up on the table.

Solas tsked softly and leaned down, his free hand coming to rest just below her sternum and to hold her still. The simple touch of his palm made her muscles spasm and a soft keening sound emanate from her chest. When his breath ghosted over her hip the sound grew louder until he pulled back.

'You must be quiet da'len, lest you rouse the attention of those sleeping,' he teased, then lowered his mouth back to her hip. The heat of his tongue had one hand flying to her mouth while the other scrabbled to claw at the table. Her teeth dug into the fleshy part of her palm as the brush returned to tease at her clit.

 

"Almost finished Inquisitor," the man himself says aloud and draws her free from the memory. His voice is husky, and when she cracks her eyes open she catches him watching the way she has her thighs rubbing together. He inhales sharply and she wonders if he can smell her arousal. Her smalls were absolutely soaked.

 

The grip he has on his paint brush looks tight as he returns to his work. He stared at it again, this time less thoughtful though, he looks distracted. He hums softly then turns to her, "Inquisitor, can you come here and tell me what you think?"

Mentally she curses him before nodding and then slowly rises up on wobbly legs. Solas takes a step back and she steps up to look over his work. He really is quite talented, but all she can think about is his mouth and the paintbrush in his hand. All she can focus on is how when he drove her to the edge with the paintbrush alone he pulled away and tasted her wetness from the brush.

 When she was quiet for too long he came up behind her and pressed his body flush to her own. His hips nudged the small of her back and ground his erection against her. He leans down, his lips pressing against the skin behind her ear, "What are you thinking about?"

She inhaled sharply and pressed back into his body, "What do you think I'm thinking about?"

"Shall we retire?"


End file.
